Excuse Me For Making An Idiot Of Myself...

Awkward. Awkward and outgoing. It's a strange combination, and probably the number one reason I'm so prone to having these horribly embarrassing encounters with people on a regular basis. See my side bar if you need a dose of feel good. After which you will say to you're self something like,

"Sweet mercy. This guy is a walking crisis. Do you honestly believe anyone can have that many embarrassing moments?"

After that, you will begin to feel better about yourself and whatever minor infractions you may have perpetrated on others.

I mean that's the real problem isn't it. Other people. Who gets embarrassed by themselves? Fall over in the morning while putting on your jeans, or cut a toot while bending over to find the cereal and you might feel a bit silly but certainly not humiliated. You won't go hide in the closet, or start sputtering and apologizing to yourself. Other people are the only reason we ever get uncomfortable.

For most people anyway. There are those folks with either no soul, or just no concern about what anyone else thinks. The fellow who bumps you while you're holding hot coffee and announces, "My Bad!" You try to smile while you drip with scalding brew. Or what about this fellow; the farting champ. I met this dude in the line at the sandwich shop, cutting at laughing, while ignoring the general disgust displayed on the face of his peers.

Some say, "self confident" or "comfortable in their skin". I say "arrogant self-absorbed bastard." Patato, Potato.

Regardless, for most of us this embarrassing moments are quite common. Some of us, like myself, seems to almost attract them. Again, it's my initial inclination to reach out to people and interact, coupled with a severe self consciousness.

For example... I've been here in Santa Clara on training all week. I'm boning up on my Cisco technologies. As such, I've been staying in a hotel. The class, runs from eight to five with an hour break for lunch. On Tueday I went back to my hotel for lunch. It's close and I had a leftover sandwich half from my dinner.

I just take a huge bite and I hear a knock at the door

"Housekeeping"

"Hrpdnmm" I say with a mouth full of sandwich.

Knock, knock, knock. "Housekeeping"

Now what. I'm going to be chewing this thing for 14 minutes. There is no way I can swallow it down without dying, so... I open the door and gesture, as if to say, "Come back later please, as I have a mouth full of sourdough right now."

She smiles. Looks sort of strange and then comes in.

What the hell? She then puts her head down and starts cleaning the bathroom. Crap. So now I have to sit here and pretend that's EXACTLY what I meant. Try acting casual as you make a giant mess on the floor with a sandwich and chips while someone is scrubbing the toilet right adjacent to your chair. Not to mention the fact that I had to go pee quite badly. Worst lunch ever.

These things happen all the time. Anyone else out there as prone to this? Sometimes I feel like an embarrassing moment magnet.

Girl Scout Stupidity

When the email went out yesterday for Girls Scout cookies it couldn't be more plain.

"If you want some, let me know before 12:00"

So I sent an email @ 1:41

"Did I miss the boat?"
"Yes for today, but maybe I can get some tomorrow"

I responded with another email asking the flavors, then another asking the price, then another adding a second box to my selection because my wife disapproved of my orginal selection. I then followed that up with a fifth thanking her for her patience and asking yet another stupid question about cookies.

All in all it was pretty ridiculous. You would think I was ordering a crate and not 2 four dollar boxes. The recipient of all my queries was quite understanding.

Today she delivered them to me, and I proceeded to ramble on like a ninny...

"I have to write a check."
"That's fine"
"I had enough cash for one, but not two boxes. I haven't written a check in a long time. I think I still remember how though. Most men aren't big on writing checks."

While writing the check I decided to fill the silence with more pointless blathering...

"So how old is your girl."
"This is for a friends girl."
"Right!" I knew this because we had just had an office wide baby shower for her not more than 6 months ago! I didn't attend, as I'm not great in social interactions at the office.
"Yours won't be in girl scouts for a while" I bluffed with a smile.
"He's a boy."
"Oh! Well. I won't put him in girl scout I guess..." A smart person would just shut up an hour ago. Not me, I'm such an idiot! Still I did get two boxes of cookies. So I guess it wasn't all bad.

The Drive Thru

In light of not being able to faithfully get an embarrassing post out every Saturday, I’ve decided to stop trying. I from this point on, I’ll just begin to add them to the week as I feel moved. So if I happen to post on Saturday it might not always be an embarrassing post anymore.

Story Circa 2005

This is a fairly recent encounter. I find that nothing can cause embarrassing posts for me the way commerce can. For some reason a disproportionally large amount of these episodes happen during a purchase.

I was driving thru to get some lunch between calls. I’m not positive what the order was, but it was most likely a salad and a diet coke. This is my standard lunch drive thru fare. When I get up to the front I exchange pleasantries with the clerk. I then pay him, he says thank you and I drive on. This all seemed to go pretty smooth you say.

Wait I say…

As I round the corner I realize… I didn’t get my lunch. I paid, and drove away without my lunch. Groan. The place is packed in like crazy. I didn’t know what to do. I parked in the lot and walked inside. After waiting through a five minute line I get to the front.

“What can I get you?”

“Ummm… I just came thru the drive thru”

“Okay”

“I ordered and paid, but didn’t get my food”

“What?”

“I drove off without my food…I have a receipt”

The counter clerk eyed me with distrust, but checked with the drive thru clerk. The drive thru clerk came over toting my bag.

“First time I’ve ever seen that one buddy!”

“...yea….thanks…”

The clerk, and other patrons got a good laugh and I got my lunch, which for some reason had a bitter aftertaste.

Phone Trouble

Story Circa 2001

I was working for a competitive local exchange carrier. I was working at Advanced TelCom Group. I was taking provisioning phone calls in ultra new Network Operations Center, or NOC. We had new phones, new chairs, and new responsibilities.

For the most part ATG catered to professionals. Nine to five operations that varied from day traders to printing houses, any business around that needed phone or internet access. We had one customer of, how should I say, questionable professionalism. He maintained a dirty website, and we were required, as employees, to help him when he had questions. I probably don't have to tell you how I felt about this.

One day Carl calls in and complains about something not working. I put him on hold. "Pervert King Carl on the line" I shouted. It had become a pet name for a client who was not only quite disliked among the other employees but also technically clueless to boot. Nothing like being foul and stupid, with your only redeeming quality that you paid your bill on time.

I start going off about how dumb he was, how I hated it when he called and how it always turns out to be his problem. I'm unable to see a problem so I bring in some help from our resident Unix Admin. Once Paul arrives I restart my "Carl’s so stupid" rant! After we all decide we don't have a clue what he's done to mess things up, I pick up the phone.

"Hello" I sweetly say, "Carl?"

"You know," He begins, "I wasn't on hold.."

"What" I started to shake slightly.

"I was on speakerphone." He says "I heard everything you said."

"Oh that!... Uhmm...I knew that," I lied, "...that's just shop talk Carl..."

[click]

Ahhhhhh!!!

I spent the next half of day recounting the story to co-workers and bosses. I truly felt like one of the biggest idiots that ever was. Had it been anyone but Carl I can't imagine what would have become of me. I imagine I would have been looking for other work. I'm only thankful that the only time something like this has happened to me was to a client who held such little respect no one seemed too put out over it. Carl folded up shop shortly after this, and I was one of the many people who was rejoicing.




FYI The logo at the top was a model I coded in POV-Ray. I later ended up making it into an animated file that blew itself to cosmic dust. I was a little surprised to see the file is still on a customer facing website, so I thought I'd share it.

Mr Ed Is Not A Zebra

Mr Ed is not a Zebra. This might seem like a very obvious statement. Trust me I wouldn't tell you if it weren't important. This is something I think you need to know!

I only mention it because if for some reason something led you to believe that this was otherwise you might do something stupid.

You might, for instance tell everyone you know that Mr Ed was a zebra. You might even convince a couple of your friends that Mr Ed was a zebra. Just because you've convinced someone of this dosen't make it so.

You might also tell people that they are stupid for not believing that Mr. Ed is a zebra! I would not advise this, only because in the end your going to have to eat a lot of crow. Crow seems to last for a long time. I can only say that some crows take years to consume, and you might be finding feathers in your mouth for decades.

Because as I said...

Mr Ed is NOT a Zebra!

Drinking Problem

Story Circa 2003

It was a rushed morning, I was running late to work. I was working for a computer consulting firm. Plenty of face time, working with clients. I was required to do a good job and look nice. Everyone wants a clean computer tech, especially with our rates!

I was out of hair gel, and this is already a very bad thing. My hair is a giant cotton ball. I was wearing a white dress shirt and black pants. I looked like a waiter from the '70s.

I was in the office reading my email and drinking my coffee. Getting ready to start my morning routine. Just before I was heading out from my office to my first client of the day I decided to finish off my coffee.

There was only a small amount of coffee left in the bottom of the cup. I threw the cup back and realized it was still half full. Clearly this is not going to end happy.

Coffee ran all over my face and down my white shirt. I looked completly ridiculous. I put on my coat and started the day. The drink spilling, cotton-headed, 1970s waiter.

Feeling Blue

As was mentioned a few weeks ago I used to work for a retail chain. I worked at Best Buy. I was one of five computer techs in the store. In fact I was also the only traveling tech in the store, making house calls for customers. This was long before Best Buy came up with the 'Geek Squad' and I can at least be very thankful for that.

Because of my position I wasn’t required to wear the Best Buy polo shirt on traveling days. I hated my polo. First off it cost me ten dollars, because although I was required to wear one, it wasn’t provided with employment. In addition to that it fit me like a wet suit. I was constantly at war with it, tugging, stretching and pulling. Days that I did not have to wear it found me a much more pleasant person.

When traveling I wore a nice shirt tucked into my khakis and my happy yellow name badge with the 'Intel Inside' sticker I’d salvaged from some dying computer. Back in those days we got a lot of vendor toys and we all liked to dress up our badges to show appreciation. I have lots of geekware from Iomega, Sony and the like. Additionally I have an unused ‘Pentium II Bunny Suit’ keychain if anyone wants to trade.

Patricia and I are living in our first apartment in town. For the nostalgic among you we were paying $595 a month for rent. It seems almost unreal now. So I step out onto our porch in my khakis and smart black button up dress shirt.

I slid across the porch and onto my rump. I now had a thick blue racing stripe from my heel to my shoulder. It seems someone decided to paint the apartment porch and not warn the occupants. The painter was leaning on his long handled rolling brush looking horrified. I was mortified and in trying to stand up, I slipped and fell on to my knees to complete my stunning attire.

The painter apologized then started knocking on doors and warning the rest of our neighbors. This of course brought new onlookers to my plight. I managed to get up, and get back inside. I had no option but to wear the pants, I didn’t have another pair. I was able to get them mostly clean, and the blue was pretty faint. The shirt was a bust. I had to wear my polo. I believe my mantra for the day was “don’t ask.”

Slurpee© Tricks

Story Circa 1997

It was hot. I was on my way to work. I was working for a big box electronics retailer, and I started at two o'clock. I bought a Slurpee and got in my car. I discovered that I couldn't drive my manual transmission and suck on the Slurpee at the same time. No Worries! I set the drink on my steering wheel (see poorly edited diagram) and now I can shift, steer and drink. Look ma, no brains!

So all is going well until the first left turn. I turn sharply, and of course, dump Slurpee all over my work clothes. Welcome to the physical world. Here we are required to abide by certain laws. Gravity it seems is one law that is strictly enforced regardless of how we would like to pretend it doesn't exist. In other words, "gravity will not be toyed with!"

The embarrassing part was walking into the store like that. Customers, peers, and all. I was soaked in Slurpee. I had to stand and plead with my manager to let me go home and get changed. He wanted me to work like that. Retail!

Tips

• Managers aren't paid well enough to understand.


• You cannot hide large amounts of liquid in a pair of tan pants.


• Some people will always laugh, even if it is not nice.


• Never post embarrassing moments online. Trust me.

Stem To Stern

Okay today is a BIG one. Story Circa 2004

I’m working for a computer consulting company. Going around from business to business taking care of customers networking needs. For the most part is was a pretty easy job. There were always exceptions, but not many. I enjoyed working for lots of different people and going to a variety of places. I was required to wear slacks and dress shirts for this job. I owned a few fairly expensive pair of dress pants, and they all fit me comfortably.

So I’m at our best customers office. I spend around eight to ten hours with them every week. I’m up in the accounting office. This is an office of only women. The room is a square and the square is comprised of solid cubes, with all the openings facing in. Picture twenty women in a square crunching numbers, cracking jokes, gossiping and rocking out to easy listening. Think of it like a hen house and you would be pretty close

In the center of the hen house was a printer. I was swapping it out with a new one. I bent down to pick up the printer and we had a nanosecond conversation.

“Printer” I started, “You need to come with me”
“I’m staying here”
“There is no way of stopping this”

I hear this deafening tear. It rang in my ears like a shot. All I could think was “This couldn’t be happening.” Then came the corroboration. A giggle began traveling around the circle of hens. What started off small was shortly out of control. I had ripped my pants from my neatly press cuff all the way to my double stitched designer waist. It was like a sail billowing in the soft wave of raucous merriment at my expense. I stood dumbfounded, smiling sheepishly and trying to comprehend what had just happened. I put the printer down and grabbed my coat. It covered the important portions, though the damage was already done.

As I was fleeing the office I ran into the manager, and she asked why I was leaving. I relayed the story to her. She looked at my pants, and started to laugh uncontrollably. As I descended the stairs, leading away from the office, I heard her in fits of laughter and few “I’m sorry Peter” like phrases thrown in for good measure.

As I got in my car and tried to comprehend what just happened I knew I would have to go back and finish the job. The idea was almost unbearable.

Egos and Stoplights

Story circa 1994.

I was sixteen years old and in high school. I was not dating Patricia at the time. During high school Patricia and I spent a lot of time on and off, off and on. I would swoon and pursue after her and eventually she would cave in. We would date for a number of months; she would then see the error of her ways and dump me. This was a very normal routine and we had both grown accustom to it.

So here we go again…

I was driving down the road in my pickup and saw an attractive girl in the car next to me. I smiled. She smiled back. She accelerated and I accelerated. She slowed and I slowed, all this time we stole glances at each other and she continued to smile at me, even a giggle or two. During this time I trying to look casual and still smile and look interesting. Teenage boys are easily some of the stupidest creatures on the planet. Not that this is a revelation to anyone. So we both pull up to a stoplight.

I turn towards her car and give her the big charm smile. When from the passenger seat pops into view a very stern face. She started laughing…and he continued to stare through my eyes into my quickly shrinking ego. I believe we sat at that stoplight for three hours and seventeen minutes, with her laughing, him staring, and me pretending to be preoccupied with my windshield.

Adolescence, such an enchanting phase.

David and Marlene

We were living at our last house here in Santa Rosa. This probably occurred in 2003 if I had to guess.

I was out mowing the lawn, and one of my neighbors had come over to chat. Larry and I used to talk a lot as we had both been off work for a number of months. I'd grown very used to him and his company. I was apologizing for being the worst kept lawn on the block when another neighbor came out.

David and Marlene were new to the block, a few months or so. Patricia and I didn't know them that well, but the were both very nice. Additionally Marlene knew my name.

"Hello Peter" She smiled, "how are you?"

"See Larry," I quipped "Everyone comes out to celebrate when I finally mow the lawn!"

We laughed and Larry went back to his garage.

"Peter," Marlene said "I baked a cake and thought you and Patricia would like some of it."

"Thanks Marlene, that's very nice."

"Larcy..." She seemed a little surprised. "My name is Larcy. Like larceny."

Oh boy, here we go again. I have trouble leaving well enough alone. I wanted desperately to fix the problem and prove that I did like them, and didn't just picked a name at random. I suppose Larcy isn't terribly common and I could have just apologized, but that isn't my way.

"Oh... I'm sorry," I stammer, "I knew your husbands name was David, and I thought..."

"Michael." Now she looks hurt "Michael... Like Michael J Fox."

I turned the color of a beet.

"Sorry." I take the cake out of her now limp grip. "Thanks again for the cake."

I don't recall too many more conversations with Larcy or Michael.

As fate would have it my current neighbor hasn't got one clue what my name is. He'll call me Jerry, or Derek, or whatever comes into his head. I really don't care. I always respond, and don't correct him. Maybe someday I'll tell him, but probably not.

Bee Calm

So I'm driving down the freeway on the way home from somewhere. I have no idea where.

PAUSE

I should let you all know that I'm not afraid of pain, needles, meetings or speaking in public. Bugs scare me, especialy bugs that can fly. There is something about a repulsive creation that can fly at your face at full speed. Add extra fear for the ones that are armed. Bee's are amoung the most scary insects.

UNPASE

I look over and what do I see sitting on my shoulder but a yellow jacket. What do I do? I break into a nice chorus of "Mr Blue bird on my shoulder!"

I Scream! I scream like death is knocking on the door. I flail my arms and manage to pull the car over. I jump from the car slam the door and run around the car checking my body for stinger weilding menaces, with no regard for freeway trafffic. What would you think if you saw some maniac on the side of the road? Right... no one stopped.

After I calmed down I looked in the window and to my shock there was a very unhappy black and yellow fuzzy caterpillar smeared over my drivers seat. I apologized to him for the mistake and then wiped him off my headrest.

The only thing worse than this would be publishing this story on the web

Emergency Blues

For those of you wondering, yes I still have quite a few of these. Additionally I'm always acquiring new ones. I've changed the sidebar to help categorize embarrassing posts. If your ever feeling stupid come here, read some posts and you'll feel better. If you don't you should start your own blog. I'd love to read it!

I was taking a friend to the emergency room. She had been jumping into a lagoon on a rope swing and landed badly. She had waited two days, and her leg was in pretty bad shape. Her ankle was quite swollen. To be honest I’ve forgotten some of the details, the reason will be apparent soon enough.

“Julie,” I tell her in an effort to keep her distracted as we wait in the emergency room, “I’ve never been in the emergency room for someone else”

This was true, I’ve lived in the emergency room since I was little. Broken arms, sprains, strains, I’ve even had my face x-rayed. This is another good story, but not very embarrassing.

So they wheel her into a room and prop her up on a bed. I was standing beside the bed with a clear view past the fabric divider at another paitent. So this guy in his forties, with a John Deere cap is sitting there calm as a cucumber.

“Yeah,” he says “I just lost my grip, and then it happened. I was…”

This is all I heard. He put up his finger and there was very little left of it. I can honestly say I now know what a human finger bone looks like. He had either lost all feeling in his body, was overcome with shock or the most manly person I’ve ever chanced to see.

The next thing I remember was a doctor standing over me, as I looked up at him through the railing of the underside of the hospital bed. It seemed I had fainted barely missed the chair, fell on the floor and convulsed for a number of seconds.

Delightful!

Julie and her grapefruit sized ankle were whisked off the bed, and put in a chair. I was forced on the bed amidst a thousand protests and apologies to my friend. They made me drink Julie’s apple juice, count their fingers and the doctor even did a pretty decent magic trick.

Right about the time I was feeling like a two year old, mister ‘John Deere’ walked by with a small bandage on his finger. He was asking the doctor when he could go back to work. I think he smirked at me, but I’m not positive.

Yet Another Saturday Post

I know this took place before 2004… I believe it was summer or fall of 2003… regardless.

I was over at my wife’s parent’s house. There were six of us total, Patricia and myself, my father and my mother-in-law and Josh and his wife Christine. I’m not positive what we were doing, or how it all started but I clearly remember how it all finished. I was evening because the light was on. We must have been leaving because we were all near the door.

So… (I always feel a pang of reluctance right before sharing these with everyone)
So…(Maybe it helps though to tell people, that way it sort of lessens them)
So… (Mostly I believe I’m just giving you all ammunition)

So… my father-in-law starts turning off and on the one light in the room… I’m not sure why.

Off…on…off
body, this is the brain. I’ve got an idea
…on
What’s that brain?
…off…on
We should pretend to have an epileptic fit… right here!
…off…on…off
Would that be funny?

Sure it would!

So dad had stopped with the lights about five seconds before I started the act. Big Mistake! I fall to the ground and start thrashing around for at least twenty seconds or so…

Was that funny or WHAT!

“Peter,” my wife with mouth aghast, “are you okay?”

no one is laughing brain… they’re all just staring at us

“I feel wet,” I say.

“You splashed the dog’s water all over you.” Patricia now begins to giggle, “You’re soaked. Are you okay?”

I hate explaining jokes. Now everyone is laughing at me and not with me. I hate that more. Anyway the joke was a hit but not for the reason I though it would be. I also had to perform a reprise in January of ’04 after Christine’s surgery, because I made a promise to.

I still hold to this day, that it was a funny joke and they are all morons for not getting it. Lesson to be learned? Timing is everything! If your not careful your joke might turn you into a family gag for the next millennium.

Is it Saturday?

So I'm at Safeway with Patricia, B.C. (before children), we've purchased a flat of water, a 32 pack I think. And plenty of other items. My hands are full of groceries, but like any man would do, I grab the flat of water.

Try and get this visual, we're walking out of the store, my hands heavy laden. The flat is hanging on by it's thin, and poorly produced plastic wrapping. I decided to flip it up into the air and hook it with my arm. This looked great in my head.

I flip up the flat... the thin plastic tears loose and right out of my hands. I watch helpless as the flat soars though the air, and lands about eight feet in front on me with a resounding "WHAP!"

Water flies in all directions, and my wife stood stunned. I freak out. I moved at light speed gathering water and hauling out the store. When we got in the car I spent the next ten minutes trying, without luck, to convice Patricia that I hadn't just had a fit in the store.

...Sigh... Why do I have so many of these?

Cat Trees & Bamboo

I have an idea, how about I make Saturday "Embarrassing Moments" day? I have enough for the foreseeable future. The only choice is, which one do I tell you...
Story Circa: 2001
Patricia and I spend all night building a cat tree for our first born, Tucker. This was made out of 4 - 1 inch thick plywood rounds screwed into 2 - 4x4's with 12 - 4 inch decking screws. Needless to say it was the most solidly build cat tree that ever was. Two nights later we get into a fight. I'm so mad at the end I look around for something to kick. I wind up with everything in me and attempt to remove the top of this 2 foot diameter plywood round with nothing but sheer bluster and a payless sneaker. I easily broke my toe. I can't say that I heard it crack, but that might have been due to the fact that Patricia was now laughing, and I was sobbing... at least the fight was over. Something would have to be done about my foot.

Two years later I go to the doctor about this foot. This foot that I can barely put a shoe on without grunting or pounding my legs or chest. This foot that has been the bane of my life for the past two years. This foot that I was terrified to let any doctor touch. So I go to the doctor to have some work done. I'll spare you the details; I would prefer you made it through this post. Needless to say the toe was grim.

So the doctor explains to me all the steps he's going to take. I don't know what it is about doctors, but they are always willing to explain your pain, or pain you will have in detail. So he takes about 5 minutes explaining the pain and how I should drink heavily or bring a stick to gnaw on. So I say;

"Like bamboo under the fingernails, eh doc?" I smile. It's at this moment when the fact that he's Japanese comes into real focus.

"What is that suppose to mean?" He is quite upset.

"Body...this is the Brain... he's done it again...
"We know... triggering the uncontrollable heat and blotchy skin...all systems go"
"Mouth, can you muster anything?"
"I'll see what comes out...engaging mouth"

"Uh...I mean... never mind..."

He walked out, and someone else did the procedure.

Eternity at Borders

I was debating whether I should do this or not, and I’ve decided to lay it on the line. I have more embarrassing moments than anyone I’ve met. I will be sharing these with you every once in a while. I urge you to learn from the experience, and if nothing else, feel better about your own moments.

Since this is the first one I’ll start off with a small one and work up. This just happened at the Borders in Santa Rosa this last week. I go in looking to purchase Star Trek. I’m always a little shy about buying Star Trek. It's not that I’m ashamed of liking it, but socially it’s sort of a fopah. Either way it puts me on edge slightly which means my odds for doing something stupid have just jumped exponentially.

So I put down my Star Trek Anthology that is the size of a briefcase on the checkout desk. Smile sheepishly, and respond in the affirmative to questions about my successful search for goods in the store.I’m already on edge now, and clerk says,

“Star Trek eh…?” which means “so you’re a dork, eh?”
“yep”, I say
To which she responds “I-I-I understand.”

I’m already uncomfortable, and now she’s advertising to the whole line that I’m on a quest for nerd viewing utopia. I understand! In other words "we all have issues we have to overcome." So instead of saying any of this, I get nervous, down to my shoes. I then do something I cannot explain. I threw my head back and I laughed.

I laughed like Steve Martin was performing live behind the counter. I laughed like someone was tickling me. It was a room shaking belly laugh. I guffawed.

“s-s-s—sorry… I-I-I-I have a studder...”

I almost died. I wish I had. I wanted my heart to stop beating and have someone drag me out on a stretcher. No such luck. The next two minutes passed like hours. I’m not sure if I will ever go back to Borders.

Speaking of laughing, you should have heard my wife when I told her about this. She's so sympathetic. All she could do, beside laugh, was thank her lucky stars she wasn't there when it happened.